


Tied Up

by kinky_kneazle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-18
Updated: 2011-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_kneazle/pseuds/kinky_kneazle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's important to stay quiet.  They can't get caught.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Slytherincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytherincess/gifts).



> This is based on one of the Drabble Day prompts, but more to the point is slytherincess's prize for reaching 10K on the last hd_writers' word war. She asked for Ron/Pansy, almost getting caught.

_Tied up at work._ That's what Ron had told his wife when he Flooed from the office. _Home as soon as I can._

It was a lie, of course. At that point, it was more Pansy who was tied up.

"Do you like that?" he asked, as he pulled her knickers around her feet, tangling her yet again. Her blouse was already pushed off her shoulders, trapping her arms behind her. He flicked his tongue out to get a taste, then rested back on his heels to look his fill. "Do you like being on display for me?"

"Yes," she breathed out, careful to keep her voice soft. They'd shoved a chair under his office door, but Silencing Charms didn't work in the Aurors’ Department.

He stood and took a moment to consider his lover. Her breasts were spilling out of a lacy black bra, her skirt tucked up so that her long legs were displayed fully and that small patch of trimmed, black hair was there to draw his eye.

"Turn around," he said and she did, automatically bending over his desk. "Just like that."

He carefully unbuttoned his pants, drawing his cock out. He stepped closer to Pansy, rubbing it across her thigh and enjoying the shiver that coursed through her as he left a trail of moisture on her leg.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked her. "Want me to pound into you, Pansy?"

He grabbed the blouse hanging loose off her shoulders and twisted it around his hand, drawing her arms closer and a cry from her lips.

"Shut it, Parkinson!" he barked. "Or do I need to stuff your knickers in your mouth to keep you quiet?"

He liked the way her eyes rolled back in her head at the words, even as they both know he'd never do it.

"Do you want this?" His cock was waiting for her assent, waiting for her to say please. She didn't want to say it; she never did. But he could tell that she was aching for it. He shifted his hips so his cock rubbed across her lips.

"Please," she gasped out, and he thrust forward into that welcoming heat.

His grunt was too loud; he knew it, even as he couldn't control it. A voice came from outside his door.

"Ron? You alright?"

"Yeah, Harry," he said, starting to pulse his hips slowly. Pansy loved this; loved being fucked and having to stay quiet. Loved trying to get his voice to break as he carried on a conversation. He moved his hand to flick circles around her clit, encouraging her to push back into him and beg silently for more. "I was just getting changed. Knocked my elbow."

"Funny bone?"

"Yeah."

"That hurts."

Pansy made a little whimpering sound at the back of her throat and he released the blouse, letting her stuff a fist inside her mouth. Her other hand shoved his away and took over the clitoris rubbing duties.

"You almost ready to go home?" Harry asked.

"Yeah." Ron grasped Pansy's hips and began to move in longer strokes, but keeping control. It wouldn't do for Harry to overhear any telltale sounds of flesh slapping into flesh. "I'm almost finished here."

"I just have to drop some paperwork downstairs, then do you want to grab a pint?"

Ron paused so that he could answer coherently. "Sure, Harry," he gasped out just before Pansy clenched her muscles in protest. He thrust hard in retaliation.

"Downstairs in ten?"

"Yup."

Ron listened to the footsteps fade away and then gave into the urge to _move_ that he'd been resisting since they'd started. They were practiced in silence, practiced in hiding their passion. It was wide eyes and clenched muscles and grasping, clutching fingers that spoke as orgasms broke over them.

"Fuck, Pans," he whispered. He pulled out and collapsed into his chair, needing support for his weak legs. She took two steps backwards and plopped herself on his lap, tucking her head under his chin and pressing lips to his cheek. "You okay to get home?"

"Yeah." She grinned suddenly and poked him. "You almost got us caught."

"Sorry." He kissed the top of her head, enjoying the moment of tenderness as much as he enjoyed the lust that overcame them whenever they saw each other. Too soon, he had to ease her to her feet. "I need to go distract Harry from thinking about the locked door too much."

"Sure. Next week, Weasley?"

"Of course." He watched her straighten her clothes and prance out the door, all sass and snark and public persona, and started planning what he'd tell Hermione next week.


End file.
